


Flipping the Coin

by HorizonHold



Category: RWBY
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Atlas mission, Fair Game Week (RWBY), Fair Game Week 2020, M/M, Major Character Injury, Not Beta Read, Scars, Semblance (RWBY), Semblance swap, fairgameweek2020, mlm author
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-17
Updated: 2020-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:35:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23179324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HorizonHold/pseuds/HorizonHold
Summary: (Fair Game Week 2020 - Day 1: Semblances)As a partner-bonding exercise, our heroes head in to their latest mission as Atlesian pro-huntsmen, but with a twist-- not only sharing partners, but sharing each other’s semblances.
Relationships: Qrow Branwen/Clover Ebi
Comments: 8
Kudos: 86





	Flipping the Coin

For a sewer system, Qrow found the tunnels that ran under the city of Mantle to be surprisingly clean.

“The majority of the tunnels are just storm drains,” Clover had explained to the small group of Team RWBY and Qrow, back in Atlas mission briefing. “As you no doubt already know, Solitas frequently endures snowstorms outside the kingdom, which turn into heavy rain down in Mantle.” As he spoke, he hit a few buttons on his Scroll, before attaching it to a dock behind a much larger hard-light screen projector. 

A slideshow with a few various photographs appeared, all depicting the familiar orange glow of the city of Mantle, vivid on the neon-blue screen. Off to the side, a file labeled ‘mantle_underground.shp’ displayed a perplexing diagram of white lines, bending in every which way, but all aligning with the crescent-shaped map of the city down below.

“Most of the drains connect to the city’s water treatment facilities, but a few flow out into the tundra and the crater. Unfortunately, gaps in Mantle’s outer wall defense often leave them open for sneaky Grimm to burrow in.”

Clover flicked his wrist across the screen— the map shifted off the projection and toward the center of the room, where it shifted into a three-dimensional form for all to see. The new exhibition of the map before them steadily rotated to display all angles of the subterranean labyrinth. Several red-blinking lights dotted the map— some moving around slowly, and others traversing across entire paths of tunnel in just moments.

“The six of us have been designated for this S&D, and we’ll be deploying late tonight— _but,_ this mission will be a very special one, for all of us.”

Weiss raised her hand. “Um— ‘special’ how, exactly?”

“Well, allow me to introduce our guest speaker for today.” Clover turned to the wide door that opened to the hallway. “Ted?”

On his cue, a man appeared from around the doorway— he had a slight skip in his step as he approached the briefing room. He wore a pale blue uniform under a large, white, flowing lab coat, which was emblazoned on the back with the gear-and-spear symbol that represented the Kingdom of Atlas. As he turned to address the group, he brushed one of his copper curls away from his similarly-colored bear ears, and pushed his thin and perfectly round glasses over his strikingly bright electric-blue eyes. 

“Afternoon, everyone!” he chimed in. He held his arms behind his back, in a stance similar to the one that many of the academy’s staff often took. “I’m Dr. Edward Tawny, from the military’s science department.”

Qrow thought he looked rather young to have a doctorate— he couldn’t be that much older than Jaune or Ren. He’d easily pass for a student, had it not been for his professional-looking getup.

“Dr. Tawny here is conducting some research with his team, and our mission tonight will double as their field observation.” Clover moved to take a seat with the others, leaving the floor to the young doctor. “Ted, care to tell us about your studies?”

“Mhmm!” Dr. Tawny drew his Scroll tablet, switching out Clover’s shared screen for his own.

“So, uh, what kinda research are we talking here?” Qrow asked. “Grimmology? Weapons testing?”

“Nope, and nope.” He clicked a button, and the screen behind him split into six boxes— each one displayed the face of each of the six huntsmen, their license emblems, and green, maxed-out aurometers. “You see, my team and I are researching what we call ‘peculiarity’; studies of manifestations of aura as unique abilities and traits in individuals— that is, we study people’s semblances.”

Qrow felt a shiver down his back. _Of fucking course._

“We’ve been observing our academy’s huntsmen through their field work, and through events such as the Vytal Festival Tournament— and that includes the six of you! Our experiment tonight concerns the activity and effects of single semblances across multiple individuals— how they interact, how another personality may affect them. Basically,” he concluded, smiling wide and bright, “you will all be switching semblances with your partners for the night!”

Qrow’s feeling of astonishment hit him hard, but it was far more vocal in the quartet beside him.

“We’re— _huh?”_

“Switching… our semblances?”

“Just temporarily,” Tawny clarified. “The effect only lasts for a few hours— or, well, until my own aura runs out, whichever happens first.”

“Hey, Dr. Tawny?” Ruby piped up. “Does that mean that _your…?”_

“Yes it does, Miss Rose!” He finished for her. “Clover, want to help me demonstrate? You too, Mr. Branwen.”

Clover nodded, standing from his chair, and passing a glance to Qrow beside him.

“W-Wait, what? Are you— Are you sure this is even okay?”

“It’s all completely safe,” Clover assured, extending a hand to him. “In fact, I’ve seen Ted’s semblance in action before myself. Think of it as a, uh… trust exercise.”

Clover’s softened look on the word ‘trust’ spoke a thousand more words. Qrow, however, couldn’t help but sense a tugging feeling of fear.

Despite that fear, though, Qrow— albeit hesitantly— took Clover’s hand, letting him pull him to stand up. The two huntsmen kept their hands held together, while Dr. Tawny put his own on top of them. All at once, three separate colors of aura bloomed into light— Clover’s bright green, Qrow’s deep red, and Tawny’s warm orange, all intermingling at the center of their gesture.

“Say, Clover, quick question— heads or tails?” Tawny reached into a pocket on his coat, and pulled out something small— a single silver one-Lien coin; the emblem of Atlas was engraved on one face, and a double-strikethrough “Ⱡ” on the other.

“Hmm, heads.”

Tawny nodded, and flipped the coin into the air with a flick of his thumb. He caught the coin again in the same hand, and then— just as all three’s auras vanished— he slapped the coin down on the back of his other hand.

Clover simply chuckled, while Qrow stared speechless at the upward face of the coin. 

_Tails._

* * *

  
“...You’re not worried? At all?” Qrow asked once again. “Why would you even agree to something like this?”

“It’s all... _ngh!_ In good... practice!” Clover groaned with effort as he pried at the metal grating, to no avail. The drain pipe out on the edge of the city wall had already been violently wrought open, but the breach was still too small for the two huntsmen to slip past.

“What do you mean, practice? Didn’t that Tawny kid say this was only temporary?”

“It is.” Clover stepped back, shaking out his hands— they were visibly red from his struggle with the grate. “But, it’s still a great learning opportunity. I thought if we all got to know each other’s skills better, it could improve our teamwork in the long run. What better way to do that than to try them out for ourselves?”

“Clover.” Qrow’s tone, while not antagonistic, was dreadfully serious. “You don’t know what… what it’s _like.”_

Clover frowned. It wasn’t a glare he gave him, but there was still a clear look of discontent in his eyes. “Okay, maybe I _don’t_ know. Maybe I _won’t—_ but you know what?” He crossed his arms. “I _want_ to know. I’m not helpless without my semblance, and I’m certainly not afraid."

Qrow didn’t try to hide his frustration, but he did try to hide his gaze.

_“Ah-ah-ah,_ no, none of that. Look at me, Qrow.” Clover’s hand was gentle, yet firm, as it tilted Qrow’s head back up by his chin. “Do you know _why_ I’m not worried?” He held on a moment, quirking an eyebrow as he waited for a reply.

“...Why not?”

“Because I _trust_ you. So, why not try trusting _me?”_

Qrow couldn’t say a word, and still struggled to keep eye contact. He just hoped that, even with his face so close to Clover’s, that he couldn’t see the faint tremble in his lip.

“Come on,” Clover said after a moment, giving him a gentle smile. “This pipe’s a dud. Let’s go find another way in.” He pressed a finger to his earpiece. “Atlas control, this is Clover...” he began, followed by a series of military jargon Qrow failed to recognize.

As they started off, Qrow passed a glance at the outlet drain that Clover had struggled for some time with. He sighed, giving the wrought metal husk a dismissive kick, and being met with a light creak— only for the sound to grow into a piercing screech as he turned back, and a resounding _clang!_ as the metal grating fell out onto the ground.

“Oh.” Clover snapped to attention immediately. _“Heh-hah,_ well,” he shrugged, “Lucky you, then.”

* * *

The echoed flow of running water was the only sound— and a constant one, at that— to fill the tunnels beneath Mantle, the path lit by dim, fizzling incandescent bulbs strung several feet apart.

The first ones appeared around ten minutes in.

Clover speared the Centinel with the lengthened hook end of Kingfisher, and rammed another into the brick wall with its barbed hilt— and the base of his fist— in a fluid motion of his arm.

Qrow swung Harbinger underhand, and the blade drove the next few in the swarm up into the ceiling, and subsequently, into dust.

“On your six!” Clover shouted.

Qrow spun around on his heel, just in time to blast two more of the monsters apart with a round of Dust shells. Finally, Clover cast his line, snagging the last and largest of them around its head, and letting the thin, sharp wire slice it clean off.

In its death throes, the dissolving head of the Centinel screeched and sputtered out a garish, sickly green fluid. Qrow narrowly avoided the eruption, but-

“Hey, watch out!” 

Qrow rushed in so quickly, that his body collided with Clover’s before Harbinger could even clatter to the floor. The two of them, however, hit the ground together, just as the splash of acid hissed and bubbled on the ground that Clover had stood on hardly two seconds prior.

Clover grunted as he sat up. He wasn’t sure which to gawk in surprise at— the crater in the concrete, still growing as the Grimm’s venom ate away at it, or Qrow, still sprawled out across his abdomen.

“Uhh-!” Qrow scrambled off of him. “Um, sorry.”

“Don’t apologize—” Clover pushed himself to his feet— “That was _too_ close. You okay?”

“I’m fine.” Qrow brushed the dirt off of his vest. “We should keep moving, what’s our point on the ma- _aagh!”_

“Qrow!” Clover caught him just in time, before he could collapse with his leg. Qrow suppressed another scream, bit back behind gritted teeth, when he caught Clover’s terrified eyes. 

The fabric from the right cuff of Qrow’s slacks had been largely burned off, leaving it in shreds, and the skin beneath it already bright red and boiling with blisters.

“Oh.” Qrow felt like he was going to be sick.

Clover growled in frustration. “Pan-pan, Pan-pan! Atlas control, this is Ace Operative Clover,” he all but yelled into his earpiece, as he gently guided Qrow to sit. “We have biohaz contact, send for medevac in sector 13, over!”

“Sorry…” Qrow murmured, between heavy, seething breaths.

“What are you apologizing for? You’re hurt!” Clover carefully rolled the torn pant leg above his knee, cautious not to touch the burned skin. “Atlas control, this is Clover!” He demanded again, with greater volume and emphasis. “Send for dustoff, _stat!”_

Qrow never could clearly hear the voices over Clover’s communicator when they were there, but the sole and drawn out sound of muffled static was unmistakable. 

“Damn it!”

“Clover-”

“No, just— just stop, just wait a minute!” Clover ran a hand through his hair. He glanced around, almost frantically, until his eyes fell upon a small pipe along the wall, just above the floor. He crawled over to it, drawing his weapon again, and began to pound at it with its sharp hilt.

“What’re you—?”

After several strikes at the metal, the pipe finally burst open— Clover recoiled with a cough as the freshwater sprayed him right in the face. He didn’t pay it any mind, though, but simply wiped it with his forearm as he waited for the stream to depressurize into a small, spring-like flow.

“Need to rinse it,” he said, hurriedly, cupping his hands to fill with the running water. “You, uh, may want to bite down on something.”

Qrow’s eyes widened in fear, but he complied, taking his sleeve between his teeth. Clover, slowly but surely, allowed the water to run off his hands onto Qrow’s calf.

He nearly blacked out right there. The water was ice-cold, for one, but the feeling on his already wounded and sensitive leg felt like hell itself. His left leg kicked and stomped, but Clover kept his other one steady. 

After a few repeats, the pain eventually numbed, but still didn’t completely subside. Finally, he watched Clover reach to his bicep, undoing the red arm band he always wore. Qrow winced again as he wrapped the cloth around his lower leg— snug, but not too tight.

Clover sighed, slumping down to the wall next to him. He may as well have been holding his breath. “That’ll have to do, for now.”

“Hey… I-I’m sorry for—”

“Please stop saying that—“

“I’m sorry for what I said earlier!” Qrow quickly blurted out. “I shouldn’t have bullshitted you like that, I...” he fumbled over his words, and grimaced again when he tried to adjust his leg. “I-I guess I just…”

“You just figured I wouldn’t know?” Clover finished.

Qrow blinked. “Uh…”

“It’s fine,” he sighed. “You’re not the first person to guess that.” 

Clover shifted forward, and turned to face Qrow better. With one finger, Clover tugged the neck of his uniform over his shoulder, exposing his collarbone; there, a long and jagged pale red mark ran nearly parallel with it. “This was from a close run-in I had with a Sabyr, one time. Didn’t even have a chance to activate my aura.” Next, he pushed up the side hem of his uniform, exposing his right hip, revealing a similar scar along the skin there. “Or, there’s the time I slipped on the ice out in the tundra,” he continued. “Or… a friendly fire accident.” He glanced to his left arm, the spot where his armband has been— where a rounder, more grisly looking wound had long since healed. 

Qrow rubbed the back of his neck. “I… guess I shouldn’t have assumed.”

“You’re not wrong, though,” Clover said. “I may not know adversity the same way you do, but I can say this—” he looked up at him— “No amount of luck ever makes bad things completely go away, not even mine. You can’t have a coin with just one side, right? I don't think having good luck means that you _don’t_ have bad luck, sometimes... and I’ll bet that the opposite is true for you, too.”

“You, uh… really think so?”

“Well, _I_ might have your semblance right now,” Clover smiled, “but I was still lucky enough to be here with _you,_ right?”

Qrow snorted. His brief laughter hid his face, and his blush. “You always this much of a kiss-up?”

“That an option?” Clover shared his laugh.

“ _Heh-heh...”_ Qrow leaned back to the wall again, pushing on the ground to help sit himself up straight. The concrete floor was cold, but he felt a finger brush on something else, colder. “Huh?”

“Hm? What is it?” Clover caught Qrow’s eye. In the corner between the floor and the wall, something shimmered just a little in the dim light of the tunnels.

“It’s, uh.”

“A coin,” Clover said. “Real gold, maybe. Looks older than Lien, probably Mantle itself.”

Qrow chuckled. “Find a penny, pick it up…”

“Now, hold on—” Clover gently brushed Qrow’s hand aside, before he could pick it up— “Look at that.”

“What?”

“It’s on tails.” 

Qrow raised an eyebrow. “Uh… yeah?” The face up side of the gold coin had some symbolic engraving he couldn’t recognize.

“Don’t you know that’s bad luck?” Clover joked.

“Alright, now you’re just messin’ with me.”

“What, you’ve never heard that old superstition? You just said it, ‘find a penny, pick it up—’”

“‘And all day long you’ll have good luck’,” Qrow finished in a joke-mocking tone, waving his hands. “Right?”

“Well yes, but, fun fact about that old saying,” Clover pointed out, “They say it’s only good luck if you pick it up on heads.”

_“Pfft._ And lemme guess,” Qrow said, rolling his eyes, but still smiling amusedly. “Tails is _bad_ luck, right?”

“There you go. Well, that’s just part of it. Apparently, if you find a penny on tails, you’re supposed to leave it on heads for the next person to find.”

“Really?”

Clover shrugged. “Well, it’s just an old legend, anyway. I guess it’s up to you whether—”

_Bzzt._ He stopped, mid-sentence. Qrow could just barely hear a sound buzz into Clover’s earpiece. 

“Clover here.”

“We got a big one!” Yang’s voice came, distorted by radio feedback and various sounds of gunfire. “Could use some help here!”

“Copy. Qrow and I are en route.” Clover jumped to his feet, moving one hand to the map on his scroll, and another to Qrow. “Think you can walk okay?”

“Uh— yeah, yeah, I think so.” As Qrow allowed Clover to pull him up, he was careful to shift his weight to his good leg.

Clover nodded. “Let’s move out.”

* * *

Not a single one of the monsters infesting the sewers tried to confront the two on their way, which was probably because they’d all swarmed to Team RWBY’s location.

Right as Qrow and Clover hit the intersection, opening up into the wider main valve of the system, a bright white blur raced past, just barely missing them. 

The mass, leaving a trail of snowflakes in its wake, soon took the form of Weiss as her weapon pierced the thorax of another Centinel.

“Yeah!” Ruby cheered her on. She swung her scythe around, fixing the blade into the floor and aiming its sniper component to the Grimm’s entourage. A row of glowing glyphs appeared in front of the muzzle, each emblazoned with the symbol of a rose rather than the Schnee heiress’s logo, and powered Ruby’s gunshots with ice Dust— a one-person version of her own move, Iceflower.

The Grimm, now immobilized by Ruby’s frozen fire, lay right in Yang’s path. As she somersaulted past, the bombshell blonde seemed to split into two— and with a blast from her gauntlets, her Dust-infused clone violently detonated, taking the monsters down with it.

_One left._ High above her, an entity much larger than the earlier bogies stirred. Letting out a haunting screech, the mother of the Centinel hive dove to the floor.

“Now!” Yang called out. On her mark, Blake came swinging down from the ceiling as well, her eyes burning a bright red, and her short, wavy hair erupted into fuchsia flames. When she swung Gambol Shroud by its ribbon, it slammed the Grimm with the force of a freight train, and sent it crashing into the far wall.

The mother Centinel hissed and gargled, and a pitch-black ichor frothed and flooded from its jaws. The pools of drool rippled and amalgamated into physical forms— and right away, the Grimm’s newborn children poised to strike.

“Eugh.” Qrow drew his weapon.

“Hey, wait.” Clover held him back. “You’re still hurt, so don’t strain yourself. We’ve got this.”

Qrow grumbled, but hung back as Clover leapt into the fray, leaving him with a wink and a salute. Qrow, meanwhile, took it upon himself to fire from the sidelines.

Clover cast his weapon’s line and caught a section of pipe with its hook, and swung in to deliver a swift kick to one of the scampering beasts. While he and Weiss made short, quick work of the others, a combined series of gunshots from Blake and Yang kept the towering mother distracted.

Qrow spotted Ruby on the other end of the tunnel stretch. She stood perfectly still— her eyes were shut, visibly taking deep breaths, but not turning away from the fight for a moment. It was clear she was struggling to focus, likely from all the chaos before her. She’d need a miracle, at that rate.

_Hmm._

As much as Qrow wanted to respect Clover’s concern for his leg, he never said anything about wings. Qrow blinked, and suddenly, he was in the air. 

Though the size of the tunnels restricted his flight path, Qrow easily swerved past the rampaging mother, and dove back down to his niece’s side, shifting once again to greet her properly.

“Oh—! Uncle Qrow!” Ruby jumped in surprise.

“It’s alright, kiddo,” Qrow assured her, “You got this.”

Ruby looked up at him. He wasn’t sure if the sparkles in her silver eyes were literal, but it’s not like it would matter in a few moments. She nodded, and resumed her stance.

While he covered for Ruby, Qrow watched as Clover seized several of the mother’s hundreds of boney legs with his line, and ripped them off all at once. Weiss zoomed past on its other side, slashing as well at the Grimm’s legs, and the combined effort of the two Atlesians soon reduced the mother Centinel to an oversized, glorified worm.

_Check..._

Finally, Ruby posed her stare, and Qrow took flight just in time to escape the blinding flash. The few straggling spawn left of the Grimm went up in smoke right away, and the mother had just enough time to scream its swan song as it turned to stone.

“Clover, up here!” Qrow shouted. He’d assumed his human form again, letting himself free fall toward the statuesque monster.

“Right!” Once again, Clover cast his line, just high enough for Qrow to catch and pull him into the air.

Clover retracted the line, while extending the rod and bladed hook to their full length, while Qrow spun his own weapon out into its full war-scythe form.

One unified battle cry, and the combined momentum of the two huntsmen, brought their weapons down together for the finishing blow— at last, the giant stone Grimm crumbled apart under their force, and joined its spawn in the ashes.

_...and mate._

Qrow struggled to catch his heavy breath, and it took him a moment to hear the sounds of the huntress team whooping and cheering for their victory.

Then, he felt a hefty clap on his back. “Now _that_ was some talent,” Clover declared.

_“Heh…_ thanks.” Qrow smiled.

Clover turned away, putting a finger to his earpiece. “Atlas control, this is Cl—” suddenly, he recoiled, a loud round of microphone feedback blared right into his ear. “O-Oh, right.”

Neither man could help but laugh.

* * *

Quiet hours in Atlas Academy were strictly enforced. Team RWBY had bee-lined for their beds, having returned so late anyway, but Clover didn’t hesitate in escorting Qrow to get proper medical treatment for his leg, received in no time at all.

“You, uh, think it’s back to normal now?” Qrow broke the awkward silence between him and Clover, as they made their way down the silent hallways to their own quarters.

Clover shrugged. “Probably. The mission’s been over for a few hours, now.”

“How do we know for sure, though?”

Before Clover could reply, Qrow got his answer, as he stumbled over a stair— naturally, he was caught by Clover right away.

“Just like ‘old times?’” Clover quipped.

Qrow smirked. _“Hmph,_ smartass.”

“Well, speaking of smart, how about yourself? That was some move you pulled off, down there.”

“What, you’re not gonna call that a lucky shot, or something?”

“Hmm, nope.” Clover shook his head. “There’s a good difference between luck and skill, you know. And that’s something I _can_ say I know about.”

Clover stopped just in front of a door, presumably to his own room, and turned to face Qrow directly.

“Listen, Qrow…” his tone had changed. Qrow could practically feel the gravity behind his voice. 

“Uh, yeah?”

“I just wanted to say…” Clover trailed off. Qrow had never seen him so nervous. “I... I may not know everything that you’ve been through, and I know it must have been hard for you… but, just… if you ever need someone to talk to, I’ll be there, okay?” He smiled. “I _want_ to be there for you.”

“Um…” Qrow wasn’t sure what to say. “Y-Yeah, of course, uh... thank you.”

Clover reached out and took his hand, giving it a firm shake. “You should get some rest, take it easy on the leg. Have a good night, now.”

Qrow smiled. “‘Night.”

After Clover shut his door, Qrow remained there for a moment— he’d felt it when Clover shook his hand, but only now did he look down to see what was there in his palm.

A single gold coin. It faced _heads-up._

  
  
  



End file.
